


some star trek one-shots

by Dandybear



Series: Bi-weekly Prompts Series [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biweekly Prompt Challenge, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Multi, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-08-19 18:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20214118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandybear/pseuds/Dandybear
Summary: Tim Heidecker whisper: It's free KiraDax fanfiction.





	1. the inherent eroticism of rock music

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno, this was a lot funnier to me when I wrote it a week ago. Now I'm like, 'wait, is this confusing?', wacky hijinks in 2k words alright alright alright alright alright

Kira freezes, like she's been caught by some kind of predator (and that might be a fair reaction, but they're from different planets and have never had to exist on the same food chain. He'd never eat her. Without her consent anyway.) when he puts the lights on. 

"I heard a noise," she says, like that explains why she's digging through wires on the Defiant in the middle of the night. 

"What did the noise sound like?" he asks. 

She makes a few twangy bwomps with her mouth and Worf sighs, leading her with a beckoning hand to his quarters.

His living space is in a disarray, bat’leth out for cleaning, and several pairs of shoes littered around the door. Still cleaner than Dax’s or the O’Brien’s. 

"This noise?" he lifts the bass he's been playing and demonstrates by slapping the strings. 

Kira's ears twitch adorably and she nods, "Is that an instrument?"

"Yes, it's called the bass."

"I had no idea," she takes it when he offers. 

"You press on the strings on these spaces to make different sounds when you strum," he explains. 

Kira shivers as she plucks one. Worf mirrors her smile. 

"Can I hear you play?" she asks. 

And, Worf may be a Klingon, but he is still a man, and if a pretty girl asks him to play guitar he's gonna show off. 

So, he switches the amp settings and plays a complex solo. 

"Do you play by yourself a lot?" she asks, unaware of the entendre. 

"Only when sleep proves illusive." 

"When I was in the resistance, we'd save music for victories, and I didn't get too bad at the--" the translator supplies the closest thing in Klingonese or Russian,  _ "zither." _

"If you have one, I'd be happy to play together sometime," he says. 

"How about next time we can't sleep?" Kira offers. 

"That's not something easily tracked, a designated time would be more efficient."

"Okay, I have plans tomorrow night…."

* * *

Ben grew up with a cat (grey tabby named Concrete) and he's trying not to laugh because Jadzia has the same affronted attitude Concrete did when a door was closed in the house. How dare? Some people? Lock her out of her territory??? If she could jam a hand beneath the door to paw around she probably would. 

She’s making a cavern in the carpet with her pacing in front of his desk, looking more distraught than he’s seen her over court martials and death.

"They're doing something sexy in there," she says with conviction. 

"Oh?"

"Why else would they lock themselves on the Defiant in the middle of the night?"

Ben tilts his head, she has a point there, "Worf's a very private person, it could be a project he doesn't want to share until it's ready," he still offers a counterpoint. 

"I heard him talking to Keiko about  _ experimenting _ ."

"Could be a number of things, chemical compounds, cooking."

"Worf's on that raw food diet, and he and Kira are the two least scientific people we know."

She taps her fingers along the surface of his desk, chewing her lip. 

“Yes, but Worf is also a stickler for protocol and if they were sexually fraternizing, he’d have filed the proper paperwork with Starfleet.”

Jadzia leans on his desk, considering that last point with narrowed eyes.

"You're jealous," Ben says. 

Jadzia’s wild eyed stare pins him. 

"I'm not jealous! I’m  _ envious _ . If they're doing sexy experiments in the middle of the night then I want an invitation!"

* * *

"I like this one, what's it about?" Kira bounces her head along to the music. 

"Much of its meaning is nonsense now, but it's a man trying to convince his Par'Mach'kai to mate with him."

"That's what you said about the last song!"

"Much of Earth's culture revolves around sex," Worf says, "What do Bajorans write music about?"

"Oh, most of our music is about sex too. That and the grain harvest… some protest songs…."

She grabs the PADD and reads the music's information, "What's a Discovery Channel?"

"Holovids that explained natural phenomenon. It’s one of the only references not lost to time."

The song switches to something loud and discordant, "Oh. I really like this one," she says, reaching for her own instrument. 

Worf smiles, "I thought you would."

"What's this song about?"

"It's about how police are often the perpetrators of race based violence and oppression."

"They’re not wrong."

She grabs her zither, picking out the notes that she can hear in the song, fumbling a bit on the rhythm, but Worf joins her on the bass, filling in her mistakes. 

Then there's a beep. 

"Is she still trying to get in?" Kira asks. 

Worf's lip twitches as he pulls up the security feed. In the darkness of the hangar bay stands a tall figure, eyes glowing in the darkness and inching closer to the camera. 

Both burst out laughing as Jadzia's face eclipses the aperture, "I know you're up to something," she rasps. 

"Are you going to let her in?" Kira asks when she catches her breath. 

Worf rolls his lips, “Eventually. But, I want to have something to show for our efforts. As a surprise.”

Kira nods, biting her own lip.

“And besides, she would likely take the opportunity to make it sexual,” he adds.

Kira snorts, “Right, because making it sexual would be  _ a terrible thing. _ ”

Worf’s eyes widen.

* * *

“Got bodychecked on my way for the ball,” Kira explains as Julian repairs the damage with a careful eye.

“Your opponent must’ve had quite the body to check with,” he tutts.

Kira laughs and nods, “Sure does.”

“Okay, just a few scrapes left, now go easier on the court, don’t want another Springball related injury,” he says, waving her off.

Kira leaves with a spring in her step and Julian smiles, working on her chart.

A wild looking Jadzia Dax tears the curtain open, “Let me guess: bruised ribs? Sprained wrist? Knee injuries?” 

Julian yelps and clutches his chest, “How long have you been there?”

* * *

Death visits Miles O’Brien with the fury of a tall figure materializing out of the darkness to pin him against the wall.

“You’re going to tell me what Kira and Worf have been experimenting with, I know you know.”

“Jesus Christ, Jadzia, y’nearly gave me a heart attack.”

"Answer the question, Chief," she grinds out. 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Worf talked to Keiko about experimenting with Kira, I know you and she talk."

"Yes, well we are married," the question catches up to him and he laughs, "Oh no! Keiko was asking Worf if he and Kira had tried experimental jazz!"

Jadzia lowers her arm, more confused than satisfied, "And what did he say?"

* * *

"Experimental jazz is the worst type of music, both human or Klingon."

Kira's flopped out on the bed, brows furrowed as she listens, "It's like they're having a conversation and everyone is talking all at once."

Worf nods, feeling validation and camaraderie in their shared hatred. (So far, Kira likes folk, country, and punk.)

The beep at the door is becoming part of the routine, so Worf pulls up the security footage and laughs. 

At centre stage sits Jadzia, keyboard in front of her and making intense eye contact as she hammers out  _ Chopsticks.  _

Kira leans in, absorbing his personal bubble, "Looks like she found out what we're doing in here.”

Worf nods, brain shutting off at her proximity and smell. 

"Should we let her in?" his voice wavers. 

"It's not ready, but we'll surprise her next time," Kira strokes his beard. 

* * *

Another beep. 

"Is she still there?"

He reaches for the screen, "No, it would appear to be one of the hangar ghosts this time."

* * *

"Are you okay, Dax?" 

She's stewing in her resentment, "I tried ignoring both of them as punishment, but O'Brien and Julian are both terrified of me right now, and Quark's taking inventory."

Jadzia falls back against the couch cushions, a dramatic maiden. 

"Any other developments?" Sisko asks, because it's not like she's going to be able to talk about anything else. 

"Kira went to the infirmary for 'springball-related injuries'," she fingerquotes. 

"Oh, you didn't see the match? Turns out Morn is quite the springball player."

Jadzia pauses, "Really?"

"They went into overtime."

She falls back against the couch, brooding, "Alright, I give up. They are just playing instruments together, and no sexy experiments are taking place."

* * *

Sweat is gathering along her hairline, but her hands are too busy with the complex fingering to wipe it. Their mixed breath and perspiration has raised the temperature on the Defiant by four degrees and both have had to shed their sleeves. Worf growls, popping the G into a little riff, his own hair getting stuck to his cheek. 

She locks eyes with him towards the climax of the song, feeling the notes rattle her bones and bounce off the walls. It reaches its fever pitch then comes down, down, down. 

They're panting and knocking arms as they reach for water. 

"I've never fingered that long before," she admits. 

"I hope I didn't lose my rhythm too badly. The metronome helps, but I think a drummer would be a welcome addition," Worf says. 

"Got anyone in mind?" Kira turns on the fan. 

* * *

Kira hipchecks her as she enters Ops and Jadzia adopts a face of faux offense. 

"You've got some nerve," she stage whispers. 

But Kira's tucking her chin and batting her lashes and Jadzia finds her resolve cracking. 

"Got any plans tonight?" Kira asks. 

"Dunno, was gonna hit up Captain Boday, since everyone has been playing the 'let's exclude Jadzia' game lately," she sulks. 

"I'm sorry, it's just fun to tease you sometimes. You’re usually so unbother-able," Kira says. 

"Well, you found which buttons to push. Happy?" Jadzia says with genuine annoyance. 

Kira runs a finger over her wrist, "Come by the Defiant tonight. We're ready to show you."

* * *

Jadzia stalks past the hangar ghosts and to the door of the Defiant. It opens, both anticlimactic and so satisfying. It's like half of the pleasure was in getting the door open. Now, she's not sure she wants what's inside as badly. 

But, there stand Kira and Worf with instruments in hand, and they lead her to sit on Worf's bed. This is off to a good start. 

They're nervous, fidgeting with string tautness and testing sound with finger. Kira's ears keep twitching.

"Okay," Worf says. 

Then they launch into skillful noise. Leave it to Worf to introduce Kira to angry girl rock.

They move in sync, both with wild hair, and skilled fingers. Her breath catches and she can’t seem to focus on the music, eyes stuck the the lines of their lips and brows instead.

When they finish with little flourish, she claps. 

"I knew you were doing sexy experiments in here!"

They exchange a startled look. 

"This is what you were hiding?" she perches her chin on her hands. 

"We wanted to get good before showing you," Kira says. 

"You are very good. Do you need a groupie?" Jadzia wiggles her brows and uncrosses her legs. 

Worf and Kira laugh and shake their heads, like some private joke. Jadzia's smile falls. 

"Actually, we thought, you might not be musically gifted, but you do have excellent timing," Worf says. 

Jadzia snorts at that, because her timing isn’t something she’s usually complimented on.

"And, anything can be learned with practice," Kira adds. 

They adopt matching stances of folded arms and expectant gazes. 

"Well," Jadzia bites her grin, "I am great with my hands."

Groan. 

"Gotta say, for awhile, I really thought you guys were fucking in here," she laughs. 

Worf groans, colouring and looking at the floor. 

It's Kira who has an impish grin, “Oh, no we’ve absolutely been fucking."

* * *

“Captain, someone’s written  _ ‘If this ship’s a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin _ ’, on the door of the Defiant,” Odo reports.

Sisko sighs. At least Dax is back to normal.


	2. have you ever just challenged a dude to a duel because he's a shitty boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jadzia takes the Shakaar matter into her own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's not enough love for pregnant kira, and jadzia's the kind of person to rectify that
> 
> this wasn't a biweekly prompt, but was instead asked for by a friend, and i am procrastinating on writing my screenplay

“Risking a political incident with Bajor over a woman!" Benjamin's voice peaks then drops. 

He paces furiously, holding a finger up as Jadzia opens her smug mouth. 

"This is the exact thing Curzon would have done. And, it is right where you follow in his footsteps."

He's breathing heavily through his nose. 

"Come on, Benjamin. Kira's been pregnant how long and you've seen Shakaar, what, twice? Something needed to be done," Jadzia says. 

"_ Something _ isn't challenging the Bajoran First Minister to a duel!"

Jadzia shrugs, "I might've gotten carried away. I have spent the week teaching Klingon mating practices to Worf and Quark."

Benjamin looks ready to level her, but instead, he collapses into his chair, tension slack, and begins to giggle. 

"He was so confused."

Jadzia mimics the face--wide eyed and disbelieving, "Like he didn't know!"

"I like the man as a politician, but as a partner for Kira…" Benjamin sips from his cup to avoid comment, speaking with his eyebrows instead. 

"Exactly!"

"This will be going into your personnel file, and I will be having to discipline you according to Starfleet regulations."

He's playing with his fingers without guilt. He's a damn fine captain and feeling comfortable with doling out due punishments is part of that. 

The level of this offense will likely strip her of all chance of captainship, but it's not like that's her goal anyway. Jadzia is happy wherever, so long as the women are beautiful and there's bloodwine on tap. 

"It's only fair to warn where my priorities are," Jadzia says. 

She exits the room with a hiss of air and all of Ops pretends that they haven’t been glancing at the door.

Worf straightens to salute her gravely. She fires back a lazy two fingered salute.

"I feel responsible for your actions, if I had not--"

"Worf," she stops him by patting his bicep, "I did what I wanted to and what I had to. No regret or dishonour here."

He smiles, "Then, best of luck, on completing your mission.”

“I’m a Dax, I’ll swing at the bat even if the odds are impossible.”

* * *

The death march to the O'Brien's quarters is harder than being hauled by the ear to Sisko's office. The look Kira gave her as she held a blade out to Shakaar, openly challenging him for Kira's hand, was imperceptible. She'd think she's an expert in Kira's microexpressions at this point, but the months of growing apart has made it difficult. Sometimes Jadzia finds herself at a loss for words even when they grab their morning caffeine. How do you have small talk with the person you're yearning for?

It's Keiko who answers the door, and she's much better at schooling her expression than Miles. 

"Hello Dax, how's the Starfleet court martial treating you?" 

Jadzia laughs nervously, "I pleaded temporary Worm-Induced psychosis and got off with a mark on my record."

Keiko's face is blank before the corner of her mouth twitches, "It certainly was a gamble of a romantic gesture."

Jadzia nervously ducks her head, "I see that now."

She passes whatever test this is and Keiko holds the door open, leaning to the side to let her in. 

"She's in her room."

The O’Brien home is very lived in. There’s half-folded clothes balancing on the sofa arm, and Bajoran books on parenting on the coffee table. Kira’s possessions migrate every time Jadzia visits--which is, to be fair, not often enough. 

Ocean smells are coming from the kitchen, which Miles sticks his head out of, giving her that open mouthed look before returning to his cooking.

Chester meows at Jadzia in greeting and twists his way between her legs. She makes big steps to avoid tripping over him, and Molly's toys. 

Her request to enter Kira's room is met with a pause, followed by a sharp, "Come in."

Kira's ready for a fight the minute Jadzia starts to share her air. 

"What were you thinking?!" her voice is high and sharp. 

"I've been getting that a lot today," Jadzia says. 

Kira's even shorter without her boots so she standing on her toes to compensate. 

"The relationship between the Federation and Bajor is tenuous enough! If the Emissary hadn't personally vouched for you then they'd be right to send you away!"

"Look, so long as Shakaar admitted to being a jackass, I don't really care what book they throw at me!" Jadzia fires back. 

Kira grinds her teeth, eyes big and shiny as she takes a hard breath.

What she doesn’t say is: _ I care too much about you to let you throw your career away! _

What Jadzia doesn’t say is: _ I care too much about you to let you suffer in silence! _

And, it's a fight the Dax symbiont has lived through enough to know the choreography. 

"You don't have to fight Shakaar on some misguided notion that you're defending my honour!" Kira fires back. 

They're getting heated, face to face, almost nose to nose. Dax knows how this ends, and almost wants to rush Jadzia, but the build up is part of the sweetness. 

"No honourable man would abandon a lover while she's pregnant! Shakaar needed to see that!"

"Bajor is more important!"

"You're important!"

Kira huffs, "If I'm so important then why have you been avoiding me?"

"You're busy with babies and O'Briens, and I'm busy with dumb boys and swords, I'm not avoiding you," Jadzia sidesteps. 

"Maybe not physically, but I can feel this wall you've built up, then you explode at Shakaar out of nowhere instead of talking to me," hurt laces Kira's voice. 

Jadzia sighs and flaps her hands, "Maybe I've been a bit distant, but it's because it's hard, to be in love with you, and be around you with my yearning face when you've got other, more important problems."

"You're what?"

"Trying not to annoy you with my yearning,” Jadzia smiles self-deprecatingly, “It’s such a mood killer when Quark gets all mope-y about love, and I don’t want to do that to you.”

“Jadzia, you don’t have to yearn for me,” Kira says quietly.

“You see, Nerys, yes, I do, because you’re a lot to lose, even if I was an idiot who never had you.”

Kira looks at Dax in a moment of perfect clarity and grabs her by the collar.

“Jadzia, shut up and listen to me.”

Jadzia nods with wide blue eyes.

“You’re going to stop yearning after me, and dueling in my name, and you’re going to use that same energy to love me from now on, got that?”

Jadzia wets her lips, eyes darting down to Kira’s, “Is that an order?”

“Yes, as Kira though, not as your superior officer,” Kira rasps.

“Oh,” Jadzia smirks, “That’s too bad, because, as your elder, I don’t have to take those kind of orders,” she whispers against Kira’s mouth.

Kira leans back so Jadzia can see her eyes rolling, “Dax, I’ve been unbearable horny since you jumped off the second floor of the promenade with a sword in hand, now, are you going to do something about that or not?”

Jadzia scoops Kira up for a hard, long kiss. The kind that leaves you panting.

“That’s a preview of things to come,” Jadzia says when they part, grabbing a pillow from the bed, “Lie down with this under your hips. Computer, play something loud.”


	3. it's a mech fighting au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the world for this one is not very developed, it's just like "standard DS9 but if it was a space mech anime"

She’s 0 for 4 and her mech’s down to its primary functions. Canons two and three are down, she’s out of ammo, her blaster is overheated, and every limb is giving her red warning lights in the cockpit. Steam heats her even through the coolant lining of her suit. Wave after wave of Dominion-Cardassian forces just keep coming, blinking into sight.

“Benjamin, I don’t think we’re gonna win this one.”

“Just hold on a little longer, Dax! We need you to stall them, but Martok’s forces will be here with backup.”

The world is getting a funny kind of orange and the calming sensation engulfs her.

_ I am going to die here _ .

Dax, ever the self-serving, preserving little worm wrestles with Jadzia for control.

_ Use what power we have for escape. _

Everyone in the Defiant is counting on her.

“Hang in there, Dax, I’m taking  _ The Sword of the Prophets  _ out,” Kira crackles in through her ear.

She’s Jadzia, feeling a tickle in her limbs from the nuclear energy leaking into her suit.

She’s Torias, smelling the first smoke.

Kira is following her, reading her systems, firing up thrusters and checking weapon numbers.

Nilani is standing on the ground, shielding her eyes as she watches the ship turn to a blur above.

And still the Dominion mechs advance.

“Kira. Worf, I need you to listen to me.”

There’s static in her ear from  _ The Defiant _ , “Acknowledged.”

“I need you to--” she swears, dodging missile fire and grabbing the blaster of a downed Cardassian mech and firing, taking down two enemy strikers.

“I need you to listen to me. You can’t--fuck! You can’t use this as a reason to close yourselves off again.”

“Kira, ready to launch. Dax, ETA 5 minutes.”

“You are okay to launch,” Worf says.

“Stop ignoring me!” Jadzia slaps her arm controls, jerking herself out of danger, but taking another hit to the hull.

She drops to one of the asteroids, hiding herself and hoping to catch someone off guard, or at least buy enough time for what she needs to do. Once landed, it’s all removing buckles and unzipping zippers, feeling Dax lashing at her insides in protest. The air tastes like metal and her teeth are chattering.

“You can’t, okay. You need to promise me. No matter what happens, Worf, you have to keep smiling. And Kira, you’re so warm and loving, it’s no wonder the family you’ve built around you.”

She has to take a glove off with her teeth, then slides her hand into her pouch, grunting as her laser blade makes the incision.

“You’re like those flowers on Fornac V, the ones in that crater that just seemed to bloom under the worst circumstances.”

“Kira, what’s your position?” Worf says, voice tight.

“Coming in hot. I’ve got two bogeys on my tail,” Kira’s voice is equally hard.

Jadzia digs then pulls. Dax practically jumps into her hand, worming out and taking them: Leela, Tobin, Emony, Audrid, Torias, Joran, Curzon, Verad, and a chunk of her.

_ You’ll feel everything.  _ Is the last thought of death they leave her with.

Her hands shake, coated in her own black blood. She reaches for the backup helmet, depositing Dax and sealing it off.

“Benjamin, I’m sorry we couldn’t be doddering old men together this time around,” she says.

“Don’t talk that way,” he chastises.

“I don’t know who else is listening. Julian, Chief, Nog--thank you for the memories. You’ve made me a more complete person.”

“Jadzia,” Benjamin’s voice gets higher with concern.

The ship’s battery tells her that it’s going to have to cut comm systems to save what little power isn’t leaking inwards and unraveling her DNA like twine.

She flies right into a Dominion mech, alerting it and three others, then further, towards their ships.

“Found her!” Kira says.

“Come on, follow me you fuckers,” Jadzia grunts.

They take the bait.

“My comm’s gonna cut out. Kira please pick up the package I just sent you. Uhh, shit, Julian don’t settle for someone just because you’re lonely. Benjamin, ask Kassidy to marry you. Life’s too short. Chief, ships can wait, your kids are gonna be all grown up before you know it and you don’t wanna miss out. Quark, you owe me latinum. Odo… take care. I love you all.”

The light on her comm is out and she smiles, well then. To be continued it is.

“Not with a whimper.”

Jadzia hits self-destruct.

There is no sound in the vacuum of space, but there is colour, brilliantly flashing and engulfing, reaching out and pulling the Dominion ships and turning them into dust.

_ The Sword of the Prophets  _ does catch one little helmet shot across the sky, carrying precious cargo.

Kira counts the deaths of her loved ones.  _ Mother, Brother, Brother, Father, Lover, Comrades, Father, Sister, Lover. _

She returns to  _ The Defiant  _ with a shredded voice and shaking hands wrapped around a helmet. Dax. The last piece of Jadzia, given to her for safe keeping.

No, not the last piece, because Jadzia burrowed herself inside all of them, leaving her wisdom and humour behind.

Kira takes a deep breath.

“First Officer on the bridge.”

She keeps herself open, showing the crew her tears and cradling a worm to her chest.

“Okay everyone, we have a sacrifice to earn,” she looks at Dax as she says this.

Dax shrinks in acknowledgement.


	4. What If: Kelvin Jadzia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: An Alternate Universe Jadzia shows up on DS9. She's from a universe where everyone BUT DAX died. Now the s7 crew has to deal with the emotional fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one might be my favourite.
> 
> (This Jadzia is from the Kelvin timeline, I think I had more references to that originally.)

Jadzia Dax is a ghost in a city of ghosts. Multiverse theory. Hypothesized. Experimented with. Proven. She is conclusive evidence that each universe is like a thin sheet of paper that one can slip through with just the right tools.

And she must’ve had the right tools. Terok Nor, Deep Space Nine. Home to [x] number of souls. Klingons, Bajorans, Ferengi, Humans, all living in relative harmony. Still floating somewhere between the wormhole and Bajor.

Bajor and Deep Space Nine still exist in this universe. The station wasn’t sabotaged and crashed into its mother planet, wiping out billions of lives in the sector and leaving Bajorans on the endangered species list.

Jadzia was on leave, she had to be there when her sister gave birth to her first child. She got the news secondhand at the shower.

_ Oh, you haven’t heard? You’ve lost your crew and assignment in one fell swoop. _

Perhaps her re-aligning of realities is a cosmic patch job. She’s the Jadzia without a DS9, they’re the DS9 without a Jadzia.

The Jadzia Dax of this universe had her circulatory system pulverized from the inside by some kind of energy being.

Yes, she’s read her own autopsy report.

That Jadzia Dax was married, she was having a child. She was a lover and a mentor and a friend.

Not that she wasn’t those things, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t as close. She flirted, never committing to one person or idea of who Dax was supposed to be. Jadzia’s always made the best shell, beautiful enough to be accepted anywhere, crafty enough to escape just before her actions have consequences.

This Jadzia sees the longing in Kira Nerys’s eyes and looks away in shame. This Jadzia sleeps in the Ensign quarters because she doesn’t want to bring Worf pain by sorting his home into piles of  _ yours  _ and  _ mine _ . He can keep it all. Bat’leths, books, fine silks, they’re just things. Things future Daxi won’t need, won’t want anyway.

Her Benjamin is the same though, and that provides comfort. He’s wary and weary when he looks at her, but sinks into her arms all the same.

Oh, and there’s another Dax running around. Ezri Dax. Unprepared, unsteady, big eyed, and ready to be better than any of them.

“I think I’m hurting everyone by being here,” Jadzia says.

“You definitely are. What are you going to do about it?” Ezri says.

The space between couches feels vaster than the star systems that once separated them.

“Aren’t you supposed to play it safe with my feelings? I am a patient after all.”

“I’m supposed to help you cope with your untreated PTSD and make sure you aren’t a danger to yourself or others. Nothing in the book about being nice while doing it.”

“Not every day we get to tear into the personification of everything holding us back, right?” Jadzia smirks, “It must really sting for you. After making yourself a sucker for punishment, and bending if not breaking Symbiosis Commission rules about reassociating by coming here, only to be stood up by a doppelganger.”

“Have you considered that you’re projecting your own feelings? Picking a fight with the doppelganger because you feel like you can’t live up to the other Jadzia?”

Of course, when boxing your own shadow, the only person you hurt is yourself. Jadzia sucks in a sharp inhale.

“I know I’m not her, I’m not any of them and I never will be again. I’m at peace with being Ezri. Are you at peace with being between places, Jadzia Dax?”

* * *

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Kira stands, standoffishly, looking at Jadzia with so much pain that it hurts to look back, but she keeps her gaze even.

“This was our table, right?”

Kira nods, lips pursed.

“Do you… would you like to sit and have a drink?”

She does, uneasily leaning on her elbows. It feels off, but it feels almost right, like two identical images overlapping. They just need to realign the corners and they’ll be in living colour. All their reds and blues.

“I prayed for this. I’m sorry,” Kira says.

Jadzia doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“I said to the Prophets, you let him take her away, so you messed up and you’d better bring her back or I’ll--I’ll come up there and….” she clenches up.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Kira stands.

Jadzia grabs her arm, it’s a motion that resonates, harmonizing with the universe, just a squeeze of the bicep makes the atoms sing.

“I gave in to despair. I’m glad you didn’t. I’m glad that if someone brought me here then it was you.”

“Dax,” Kira’s voice cracks.

“This is all pretty complicated, huh?”

Kira nods.

* * *

She really shouldn’t do this, but she needs to do something and, according to her other self, she is:  _ a bunch of bad coping mechanisms in a person suit _ . (Thanks, Ez.) And doing something about it is better than not doing anything, which is what she has been doing until now and--

“Hi.”

Worf stares at her, hair down, robe on, and ready for bed.

The pause he takes is enough to set her teeth on edge.

“Hi,” he holds the door open.

This was her home. Not  _ her home _ , but Jadzia’s. It all hits like an elbow to the nose. The wedding photos, pieces of her scattered around in the possessions Worf clearly hasn’t had the heart to put away. Things she lost in the crash of Deep Space Nine. Her favourite boots, the book of poetry she’s been sneaking around to herself since she was Emony, all of her music, all of her books, the life that didn’t fit into a suitcase.

Worf brings her tea without being prompted. Just to her taste, she smiles into the cup, appreciating it for the peace offering it is.

“Do I… should I be here? Is me being here just hurting you?” she asks.

Worf hugs himself, shielding his body from the question, “This place was your home before it was mine.”

“Worf, don’t dodge the question.”

“You don’t owe me anything. It hurts, yes, to see you and see her, and for a moment--” he exhales hard through his nose.

“I’m not her, but I could be.”

He sits on the edge of the couch, looking at her with one eye and into space with the other.

“Aboard the Enterprise, I encountered an anomaly that allowed me to shift, as you have, between universes, and I saw the lives I could have lived. I was married, to Deanna. And, before that, I had never seen her as a potential mate. Not consciously… though, further meditation on the situation allowed me to realize I had always harboured some attraction to her.”

Jadzia sits and listens, because, of course Worf understands. Of course he has the perfect frame of reference to get what she’s going through. How silly of her to think the universe, so infinite in possibility, is so small that a handful of people can be the most significant figures in quantum theories just because they take a wrong turn on a runabout.

“When I returned to my own world, I chose to pursue Deanna romantically. I saw how beautiful our life together could be and, I took a chance on that.”

“But you didn’t have a life with her,” Jadzia points to their wedding photo as evidence.

“No, I wanted a life with you.”

Jadzia closes her eyes, feeling a migraine coming on.

She can hear him get up, to stand, with his back to her as he sets his mug aside.

“But, I won’t hold you to that. I secured my wife a place in Sto-vo-kor, I grieved over the bodies of her and our daughter. You are unbound from me, just as,” he sucks in a breath, “Just as Ezri is.”

It doesn’t make her feel any better. 

* * *

“I have a proposal.”

"She's not going to sleep with you, Julian,” Jadzia groans through her hands.

He flinches as if struck, “That wasn’t my proposal.”

Jadzia doesn’t need to look at Ezri to know they’re wearing the same ‘bullshit’ look. 

“It’s like stereo with you two,” he says with a weak smile. Changing gears, he brings back his point, “So! You have the body of Jadzia Dax, but the memories of another universe, and you have the memories of this universe’s Jadzia Dax, but the body of a new host--”

“We could switch symbiotes,” Jadzia stands, knocking her chair back.

Ezri glances at Jadzia, breath stuck and reeking of fear.

“It wouldn’t have to be permanent, just long enough for this Jadzia to become familiar with her thoughts and feelings from this world, then swap back.”

“I’m gonna need some time to think about it,” Ezri leaves in a hurry.

She has every right to her reluctance. She’s just gotten her bearings as Dax. To ask her to absorb the memories of alternate hosts, alternate lives, it’s too much to bear.

“I’ll do it,” Ezri tells her, two weeks later, lip sweaty and eyes determined.

“Are you sure? This might just be another bad coping mechanism masquerading as sentient thought,” Jadzia makes sure her smirk holds no bite.

Ezri’s fists are balled up, “Look, it can’t be any more traumatic than reliving eight deaths back to back with very little preparation.”

“Yeah, they call that ‘the stairs’ in training. Still knocked me on my ass.”

“I thought suffocating as Tobin would be the worst, then I got to Torias,” Ezri says.

Jadzia sighs, stands to grab Ezri’s face, “You’re so young. This never should’ve happened to you.”

“It’s made my life so much worse,” Ezri laughs bitterly, “But I don’t know if I’d trade it for the world.”

Jadzia kisses her dispassionately, just a moving of their lips. It’s not quite kissing a mirror. More awkward, and still likely to give her a crick in the neck from the height difference.

“You’re getting another raw deal out of this,” she says when they part.

Ezri makes a face and wipes her lips on her arm, “Ew, don’t do that again. It was like masturbating with two bodies.”

“You mean you wouldn’t do that?”

Ezri’s laugh is high pitched and hysterical, “Hasn’t any indicator of our interactions proven that I would attack my alternate self on sight?”

Jadzia slaps a hand down on Ezri’s shoulders and gives her a little jostle.

“Ez, we’re going to need to work on your self loathing.”

* * *

Julian scrubs in, and Jadzia’s on that table again, looking forward in time, herself seeing the next host waiting to receive her symbiont.

The Dax of this universe enters her, still twitching, reacting. Confused. Mourning. Latching. Re-attaching.

The missing piece slots back in and she is Jadzia Dax, but the other Jadzia Dax. She feels like she’s watching her own life from an observation deck.

It hurts. 

She’s holding a heavy bag for Benjamin. She’s leaning her head close to Kira’s pretending the bar is too loud to hear in. She’s up late, spinning a wheel and surrounded by Ferengi. She’s dancing in a circle with Bajorans, and punching her mother-in-law in the nose. She’s purring into Kira’s neck that there’s room in her suitcase if she wants to come along for the honeymoon. She’s watching Worf tuck Yoshi in, and she’s dying in a cave, then she’s dying on a jungle floor, then a temple, and then she’s a child again listening to her father explain why he and her mother won’t be married anymore.

Then she's Ezri, and sucking in breath through her teeth, throwing up, misery, triumph, fear, all rolled into a few months. 

Time and life loop back in on each other, unlinear, a series of moments like zigzags on a pad of paper.

Ezri’s gasping for air and Jadzia reaches across the gap for her hand, squeezing her, tethering her to this world and this body.

“Thank you,” Jadzia exhales.

“Why are the lights so fucking dim here?” Ezri groans, looking at the ceiling.

Jadzia bursts out laughing, “Yeah, that took some getting used to.”

* * *

Second chances, like gift space horses, shouldn’t be looked in the mouth. Here, Jadzia has the chance to be whatever, to be whoever, the ultimate temptation of Dax. Adventure, wherever the map across the stars may take her.

But, she could also stay. She could bury herself in the warmth Jadzia cultivated. She could be a part of this family, walk on this ghost station as a ghost of her own. She could marry, remarry, rejoin. She loves them. All of them so much. 

_ Should I stay or should I go? _

“Luckily for you, we can be in two places at once,” Ezri says with her elfin grin.

Jadzia looks back, seeing them all watching her from the catwalk as she boards a shuttle for nowhere.

_ Take care of them, Ez. Until I get back. _

And, she will come back, she always does.

* * *

Epilogue:

"You're back," Benjamin perks up in surprise.

"Funny thing about a war going on. Seems like Deep Space Nine is the most exciting place to be."

"Well, we still have an opening for the Science Officer... if you're interested."

"I'll submit an application."

**Author's Note:**

> anyway, Kira enjoys Rage Against the Machine, Dax is Doctor Worm on the drums, and today's episode was brought to you by the message, "communicate openly with your loved ones, because being excluded never feels good." also the hangar is like hella haunted they should do something about that.


End file.
